


The Black Buzzard

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Medical Torture, Prompt Fill, at least in this fic - lol y'all know how i am, father and son bond over pain and suffering, i don't go into ~detail~, questionable mechanics of telepathy, the torture thing is graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:10:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7918195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vader plans to capture Luke, but everything goes more than a little sideways, and Luke teaches his father an important lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Buzzard

**Author's Note:**

> "Unsolicited prompt re: metal organs: Vader goes to capture Luke in typical Darth Dad style, and is thwarted by a combination of Rebel wiles and his shitty internal robotics fucking him up worse than usual. Luke has feels. Vader has feels. We all have feels."
> 
> Trigger warning for Vader's incessant tomfoolery

Blasterfire raged – the rattle of each bolt as it made contact was a cacophony, only echoed by the steep, cylindrical walls.

 

The base was beneath the earth, surrounded on all sides by several tons of rock and soil. Luke wasn’t even sure of the name of the planet, just that it was mild, dusty, and rocky, and that the Empire’s dogs had sniffed out the base here.

 

Stormtroopers rushed the complex, several falling under the rebels’ onslaught, but not nearly enough. Luke cursed – his hand itched for his lightsaber, blaster, anything. There was nothing.

 

Luke pressed against the metal as shots pinged against it. He was behind what might have once been a wing of fighter, salvaged and ready to be melted down and recycled. As laserbolts rocked the sheet back and forth, Luke thought, _there won’t be enough of me left to scrape off of this thing._

 

The Force hummed, though, and on a wild impulse, Luke rolled into the open space between the mangled durasteel and the huge, hundred-pound crates of supplies that Luke himself had helped to deliver.

 

Once behind the crates, he ran low to the ground, scrambling back into the earthen tunnels – the internal workings were not unlike Hoth’s had been, even if that base was denser and more populated. Hoth, in Luke’s opinion, was infinitely more miserable.

 

If he could get through these tunnels, he could regroup with the others, and they could tackle it together. He _had_ to help them – there was no way they could take on such numbers.

 

For the moment, Luke sucked in breath after breath, now that he could. For some reason, however, he couldn’t seem to get enough. The Force was like a vice of cold around his chest, whispering –

 

“Focus.”

 

Luke whirled around, hands stretching towards his belt – _kriff._ No blaster, no vibroblade. No lightsaber.

 

Darth Vader filled the path of the tunnel – he stood on a natural rise of the earth, making him seem taller than he needed to be. It was almost impossible to see him in the darkness; he looked like a demonic, unholy shadow, a beast of war come for his pound of flesh.

 

Luke flexed his prosthetic hand.

 

Vader’s breathing echoed around the room, and the man stepped forward, forcing Luke backwards.

 

“You allow your anxiety,” Vader paused, something deep and profound rolling off the word, “to distract you from your relationship with the Force.”

 

“I wouldn’t be anxious if _someone_ wasn’t sending in a squadron of stormtroopers to murder my friends,” Luke snapped.

 

“I wasn’t aware you were friends with every rebel in existence,” Vader said, sounding – by the stars, was that _amusement?_

 

Luke felt indignant anger flare behind his sternum, and he stepped forward. “Stop this, Father. If you’ve come for me, take me. But leave them alone.”

 

Vader’s mask tilted. A smothering layer of ice – fire, if fire was cold – wrapped around him, less like a blanket, and more like a shield. “You have accepted the truth?”

 

Luke snapped his mouth shut. Somehow, the sound of his teeth clicking together was louder than the sound of Vader’s respirator.

 

He’d come to accept it. He _had;_ but that didn’t mean this man, this monster, had suddenly earned the title.

 

But maybe he _could._

 

 “I have,” Luke said, slowly. “You – you were once Anakin Skywalker.”

 

Anakin Skywalker, a hero, a legend, the pilot all pilots dreamed of being; turned savage, merciless, war-mongering. It could’ve been ambition. Lust for power, greed.

 

But there were stories that nobody else new – and they sounded like the clink of chains.

 

The temperature plummeted. “You would be wise to not mention such things in the future, my son.”

 

_My son._

 

“Come with me,” Luke blurted.

 

Vader’s shock rang clear as a bell through the Force before his shields erected themselves. “What?”

 

“Come with me,” Luke said, stepping forward. “Join me. Leave the Empire behind.”

 

Vader was silent for far too long. “Why, young one?”

 

Luke faltered. “To – to be free.”

 

The ultimate gambit. Luke could taste his heart in his throat, relished what might be his last breath; he was all but calling Vader a slave, running with the idea that maybe – _maybe_ – Vader didn’t will the Empire’s atrocities.

 

Luke, however, did not taste death.

 

“To be free,” Vader repeated, voice reverent. “To be – free.”

 

He turned away from Luke, mask angled towards the ceiling, like the dirt could give him an answer to an age-old question.

 

Luke was not imagining the longing, the wonder, that flitted – briefly – across their bond. It felt like he was watching a child stare at a glass of water, unable to hide their thirst, and equally unable to ask for a drink.

 

He was on to something. There was good in him, Luke was sure of it – Vader would have destroyed him if he was truly evil.

 

Vader turned, sharply, and began to pace. His cloak snapped at his heels.

 

Vader’s hesitation left Luke’s heart thumping; was there really, truly a chance? Did a part of Vader _not like_ the Empire – could he take his father back?

 

Luke swallowed; Vader seemed agitated, antagonized by some thought. There was something important unfolding beneath the black durasteel.

 

All at once, Vader turned to him, and said, “I cannot.”

 

 _Careful, careful – I have to be careful,_ Luke thought. _I have to ease him into it._

 

Luke’s chest felt crushed. “Father – please. Why can’t you?”

 

If Vader was quiet before, he was dead silent now. “Because,” he said, “because – “

 

“I’m not asking you to join the Alliance,” Luke said. “I won’t. The Empire is unjust, but I won’t make you fight anymore. You won’t – you won’t _have_ to do anything.”

 

“This is foolish nonsense,” Vader growled. “You ask the impossible.”

 

“Why is it impossible? Surely you’re allowed to leave, like any other officer?”

 

“Of course I am,” Vader thundered. “I have higher authority than any other – “

 

“You’re lying to yourself,” Luke said.

 

He’d overstepped.

 

Vader jerked back, like he’d been slapped. It was an interesting movement for a man covered in armor. Luke knew, within seconds, that he’d crossed some integral line.

 

The Force swelled around them, cracks spreading through the packed earth around them. Vader took a step forward, looming above Luke like a malignant shadow.

 

“Do _not_ ,” Vader said, quietly, dangerously. He jabbed his finger, but the movement was erratic and sharp at the edges. “Do not – do not _presume_ – “

 

 _I was right_ , Luke thought, wildly. He’d taken a chance – he’d bet on the idea that his father had morals somewhere, buried deep – and he’d gotten a _hit._

 

He was _right._ His father was lying to himself; he disagreed with the Empire’s slavery policies. What more was he discontent with? What more was there – what could be _salvaged_ –

 

In Luke’s racing mind, he forgot to remember Vader’s earlier advice: _focus._

 

The Force slammed into him, and Luke was thrown clear down the tunnel as the two support posts snapped, and caved in.

 

For a moment, it was all Luke could do to heave in breath after breath, staring with wide eyes at the heap of rock and earth.

 

The bond – the tentative thing in Luke’s mind that he danced around, the string with his father tied to the end – shuddered.

 

Luke darted forward. “Father!”

 

He got on his hands and knees, scrabbling through the dirt and shoving rocks aside. It took him an agonizing minute to remember the Force, and in one, desperate push, and a black hand broke through the remaining rubble.

 

Luke watched, almost entranced, as Vader lifted the massive boulder – it seemed to have crashed into the man’s stomach, which couldn’t have been pleasant – and then slid out from under it. He made it look effortless, even as huge as he was.

 

He looked scarcely any different; his cloak was rumpled, his suit covered in a fine layer of dirt. There was a hairline crack in one of the mask’s lenses. Otherwise, he looked exactly as he appeared on Imperial propaganda.

 

For the first time, Luke wondered what was beneath the suit. Surely, there was nobody who could survive a cave in with barely a scratch – Luke wouldn’t have been able to believe it, if he wasn’t staring bug-eyed at the man now. Was it a Force technique?

 

First, though, was the more pressing matter.

 

“How – why – you pushed me out of the way!” Luke said.

 

“Indeed,” Vader rumbled.

 

“You pushed me out of the way,” Luke repeated, a low murmur. “That would’ve – that would’ve killed me.”

 

Vader stiffened, near imperceptibly. “You will not be _dying_ , young one.”

 

There was more to the sentence than Luke could discern. It struck him hard, right under his heart, that his father wanted him alive. It shouldn’t have been surprising – Vader had gone to great, nearly impossible, lengths to capture him in the first place. Still, Luke felt – relieved.

 

The father who has so callously mutilated him had now saved him. It was Luke's turn.

 

It occurred to Luke that Vader was still staring at him, intently. Luke was picking up something from behind Vader’s mental shields – worry, maybe. Something deeper and more intense.

 

“I won’t,” Luke promised, staring Vader straight in the lens. “No… dying.”

 

He remembered his grandmother’s grave, and his aunt’s assertion that, _Anakin loved her more than anything. She thought the world of her little boy, and you could see it on his face, plain as day – her death destroyed him._

 

Vader’s shoulders went slack, if Luke could call the barest release of tension ‘slack.’

 

“Good,” Vader said, reaching out for his son. At the last minute, he pulled his hand away, and the heavy glove fell slack by his side. Luke didn’t understand his palpable disappointment.

 

Luke, still in shock from the whirlwind of revelations, was blindsided when Vader strode past him. Vader’s gait was awkward, one step heavier than the other, but he was fast anyway.

 

Vader stopped, twisting his entire body just to turn and look at Luke. “Are you coming?”

 

Luke blinked. With a furtive look at the caved-in tunnel, and the path to the rest of the base’s population, Luke stepped to follow his father.

 

His mind was racing, trying to fit the pieces together – and hatching absurd idea after absurd idea. Vader had killed and murdered and destroyed, left smoking wreckage to burn; he’d plowed through the galaxy leaving desecration in his wake.

 

But, maybe what he needed was someone to take a chance on _him_. Someone to take a shot in the dark, say, _I’m here to help you change._

 

The idea hit Luke, again – he could _save_ him.

 

He could save his father.

 

Enraptured by his thoughts as he was, Luke was caught by surprise when he ran full-force into Vader’s back. His head slammed into the pauldron, and Luke stumbled backwards, rubbing his forehead.

 

“One would think,” Vader said, almost annoyed, “that you would notice when someone stops in front of you.”

 

“It’s been a long day,” Luke shoots back, frowning.

 

Vader’s mental guards were tightly drawn, but Luke could get sensations – mild things – that were slipping out. A dull, pseudo-ache covered his abdomen – as if Luke had laid in the sunlight, and his skin had turned red and fiery from the heat.

 

“You’re in pain,” Luke said. It shocked him. Vader was a towering, cruel figure, jutting edges and sparking wires; the idea that he could feel pain was foreign. Unimaginable, impossible.

 

He, better than anyone, knew that this machine was not a machine at all, and _yet._

 

“I am fine,” Vader barked, and then he strode off so fast Luke had to jog to keep up.

 

“Slow down!” Luke squeaked.

 

 _I can help him - if he'll let me,_ Luke thought.

 

Vader stopped – they were at a fork in the passageway.

 

“Which way?” Vader asked.

 

“We – I didn’t come through here,” Luke said. “You made a wrong turn.”

 

“Nonsense. I follow the will of the Force,” Vader said, turning right. If it had been any other situation, at any other point in time, Luke might have rolled his eyes. As it was, the statement filled him with dread.

 

Luke darted with him, this time keeping a good pace. “But what if the Force leads you _wrong?”_

 

“The Force cannot lead you wrong, my son,” Vader said. “Destiny is inevitable. Unchangeable.”

 

Luke took a deep breath, steeled his resolve, and thought, _I can do this._

 

The tunnel took a sharp turn. “What if we had power over our own destinies?”

 

“There would be chaos unimaginable. All is inevitable and a fact of existence itself,” Vader said.

 

“You pushed me out of the way. You saved my life when I could have died,” Luke said. “Isn’t that changing destiny?”

 

“No. It is your destiny to be with _me_ , father and son, and – “

 

“– don’t finish that with, ‘rule the galaxy.’ That’s not my current job dream job,” Luke interrupted, dryly. “But don’t you believe that anything can change?”

 

They’d stopped, and Luke looked Vader dead in the mask. For a second, it was just the two of them, breathing, existing.

 

“… once,” Vader said, softly. “But that time has long since passed. You would do well to learn from my error in judgement, son.”

 

Luke didn’t quite understand the meaning of that – but it was something important. There was something deeper there, if only Luke _knew_ what exactly he was looking for. It was frustrating, sometimes, flying blind.

 

“No, it hasn’t,” Luke said. “You just have to… take a chance. A shot in the dark.”

 

“A _foolhardy_ shot.”

 

Luke grinned. “A shot in the dark destroyed the Death Star. Sometimes, you have to turn off the navi-computer.”

 

 _Turn off destiny_.

 

Privately, Luke thought his speech was to be commended; for something he’d thought up on the fly, standing next to a man who’d murdered hundreds, it was pretty moving.

 

For a moment, there was only Vader’s breathing, and the ringing in Luke’s ears.

 

At last, Vader said: “That is… a childish metaphor.”

 

And Luke – by the stars, Luke _chuckled._ Maybe Vader would let Luke help him - maybe.

 

The tunnel felt warmer, suddenly. The oppressive iciness seemed to lift.

 

It didn’t last. The flesh over his stomach was hit with a blinding shot of pain – Luke nearly doubled over, and it wasn’t his pain to begin with.

 

As it were, Vader swayed, his mental shields alternating between fragmented and whole. Luke reached out, his hand hovering over Vader’s arm. “Father? Father -!”

 

Vader collapsed.

 

It was like watching a huge, massive oak crash to the ground. He’d only ever seen trees so huge on Yavin V, but the analogy fit. It would have been funny, if Luke hadn’t known the stories about Vader – relentless, fearless, and, most of all, indestructible.

 

Luke knelt.

 

Vader laid, breathing louder than ever, on the rocky ground – Luke wasn’t even entirely sure he was awake.

 

“Father?” Luke asked.

 

He prodded at Vader’s shields with the Force, tentatively – the barriers buckled, sending a flood rushing through the gates.

 

Luke gasped, hand wrapped over his stomach – blinding, spine-deep pain twisted at his insides, like someone had thrown a starving krayt dragon into his stomach and left it.

 

“Kriff,” Luke said. “Kriff – that’s – that’s definitely internal.”

 

Luke rocked back on his heels, thinking.

 

He knew there was a reason Vader was in that suit. The breathing, more than likely, was necessary for Vader to live; Ben had told him that Vader was, “more machine than man,” implying that the suit went further beyond a basic life support device. How much further, Luke couldn’t guess – it couldn’t be too much, right?

 

After all, what injury could require this level of technological immersion, anyway?

 

Luke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. There was too much mystery surrounding what had happened to his father. Nobody had the answers. Without the answers, nobody could help.

 

There was one thing he could try, though. He closed his eyes.

 

 _Father,_ Luke reached out, tugging on their bond. _Father, wake up._

 

_No._

 

The reply was instant. Luke jumped a little, it was so fast, so cutting.

 

_Why not?_

 

 _Hurts,_ said Vader. _Stay._

 

It was less actual words, and more phrases, ideas, images. A baseline, instinctual feeling.

 

_Stay where?_

 

 _Here,_ Vader replied.

 

_Why?_

 

 _Better,_ said Vader. _Good. Really good._

 

_Why’s that?_

 

 _No hurt,_ said Vader.

 

“I think I’m talking to your subconscious,” Luke said, to Vader’s motionless husk.

 

_Why does it not hurt?_

 

 _Not there,_ said Vader.

 

_Being awake hurts?_

 

 _All the time. Too much,_ thought Vader. _Too much. Too much._

 

This was getting strange fast.

 

_Why?_

 

 _Bad things. Fire. Obi-Wan,_ Vader said.

 

Luke swallowed. _What did Obi-Wan do?_

 

 _Burn. Hurt,_ Vader thought.

 

Luke leaned backwards – okay, definitely strange. Somewhere past that, even.

 

 _I’m sorry he did that,_ Luke said. _But I need you to wake up, so I can make it stop hurting. Let me help._

 

 _No stop, never stop,_ Vader thought.

 

_You have to wake up._

 

 _No,_ Vader thought. _No. I will not._

 

The actual sentences were a good sign.

 

_I think you’re already awake._

 

He already wanted freedom - he just didn't see it.

 

“Luke,” Vader said. “What are you doing?”

 

“I had to wake you up. I took… initiative,” Luke said. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

 

“I am _fine – “_

 

“You just collapsed,” Luke said. He wanted to mention Vader’s – well, _sad_ subconscious, but he got the distinct feeling Vader didn’t remember the experience.

 

Vader didn’t seem to have an appropriate rebuttal, so he said, “It is not your job to – look after me.”

 

“But that’s what sons do,” Luke said. “Right?”

 

“I would not know,” Vader said. “I only recently discovered mine.”

 

Something warm bloomed in Luke’s chest. “Well, your son says that that’s what sons do.”

 

“Perhaps he is wrong.”

 

“He probably isn’t,” Luke said. “Just tell me.”

 

“… I have – replacement organs,” Vader said, swiftly, as if he were ripping off a bacta patch. “They are – made of metal. Occasionally – “

 

“Metal?” Luke asked. “There’s – that’s – that’s not medically ethical. At all. Did you – “

 

“No,” Vader said. “It was not my idea.”

 

That had deeper, more horrific implications. Luke swallowed.

 

“Well. So – the, the metal ones ran up into all the… flesh ones,” Luke said.

 

“It,” Vader said, “would seem so.”

 

Bile rose in Luke’s throat, and he shuddered.

 

Luke drummed his hands on his thighs. “What – what do we do?”

 

“It is – not of your concern,” Vader said. “I will survive.”

 

“Not without help.”

 

Vader fell silent.

 

 _You can't cut your chains off if they're holding you back,_ Luke thought.  _You have to let someone else help._

 

“Not… without help,” Vader agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> :D Tell me if you guys had any thoughts!
> 
> (And, the subconsciousness thing is actually not my headcanon - it was offered to me via an interesting Tumblr discussion about talking with people through the Force. It's weird. I know. Just let me inhabit my landfill in _peace_ )


End file.
